


It's Not Over

by lookingforatardis



Series: it's not over [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Interviews, M/M, Post-Break Up, Resolution, that's right im telling you that upfront this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17634833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforatardis/pseuds/lookingforatardis
Summary: After they break up, Armie gets asked about Timmy in an interview and finds himself struggling to come to grips with something he feels is far from over.





	It's Not Over

It didn't hurt so much these days.

Armie could usually dissociate the pain from the breakup from the reality he had no choice but to live. Memories would come in waves, but he understood it was part of the process. He knew it would happen the moment they sat down to talk, the second Timmy told him he needed more. Logically, he understood that when he told Timmy he thought it was time, that they would be haunted for some time while they healed.

He understood all of this, withstood it all, for months. The ache in his chest started to ebb and he could push his thoughts of Timmy aside when they threatened to overwhelm him. The healing process was, for lack of a better phrase, going well.

The hotel had a greeting basket waiting for him when he arrived, normal things like fruit and a bottle of wine, nothing too fancy. He picked through it slowly and focused in on the hum of the air conditioning unit, thought about how many hours of sleep he might be able to get after the promo today for his latest film.

He almost missed them, the bag of pistachios.

The progress he'd made suddenly meant nothing, the small bag in his hands. He's in LA suddenly, Timmy screaming and laughing, hands frantically trying to stop Armie from tickling him, pistachio shells all over the place, Timmy throwing them at Armie to stop his advances, collapsing into a fit of giggles when Armie kisses his stomach in all the spots he knows makes him squirm.

"Armie, are you ready?" He turns, looks at the door where the PR rep for the film waits.

 

 

"It seems like the cast was very close."

"Oh absolutely. They're all incredible, it was so great to work with everyone," Armie smiles.

"That's not usual, is it?"

"Well I think if you're very lucky it might be, but no. It takes a really good director, I think, to be able to create that sort of cast chemistry."

"You seem to be quite lucky in that department, as far as directors go," the girl says, glancing down and her notes.

"I've chosen some good projects, yes. I look for directors who I can really get behind, and for this, I mean I couldn’t pass up the opportunity."

"Yes, you've worked with some really brilliant people. How do you think this experience compares to, say, Sorry To Bother You, or even Call Me By Your Name?"

Armie's back in his bedroom, Timmy snacking on a pistachio, Armie throwing a pillow at him, telling him not leave crumbs or they'll get caught.

"Armie?"

"I think it's difficult to compare them," he shrugs.

"You've gotten close to cast members in the past, too. I mean, we know you keep in contact with some of them, right? Timothée Chalamet, for example."

Armie smiles, because he knows he should. "Yes, I've made some friendships."

"Do you still keep in touch with him?"

"I don't see how that's really relevant to this film," he says. Evelyn coughs nearby and he takes a deep breathe and smiles as wide as he can. "But of course, yeah. He's amazing, that's one of those rare things that I think we might have made with this movie, that kind of cast connection, you know."

"Well that certainly bodes well for your cast friendships. It's been quite a few years since you filmed Call me by your name, if you're still in touch--"

"Yeah. It's lucky." He turns to Evelyn and shakes his head.

"I think that's good," she says, smiling at the interviewer as she motions for her to stand and leave.

 

 

"I can't fucking believe-- did you not tell them not to ask?" Evelyn eyes the door behind them as he paces. "Unbelievable."

"I can't control every interview, just like I can't control everything you say. We've talked about this. I can only do so much without starting more rumors."

"He doesn't get asked. He gets asked about every goddamn person in the world but me." Armie stops and stares at a fading picture on the hallway wall, his hands fidgety at his sides.

"He'll be in LA next week, I can set a meeting," she suggests.

"And talk about what? I'm still married."

"It was a suggestion, Armie. Jesus Christ. Can we move on, you have another interview in five and I don't want you out here fuming."

"I'll walk out if they ask."

"Don't you dare, you know that does more damage than good," she says, stepping towards him. "I am  _ trying _ to control this, but the more you miss him the worse this gets and harder my job is. Please. Go punch a wall or something and get your head in the game."

Armie shakes his head in frustration and looks towards the interview room. "Fine. Let's just get it over with."

 

 

Timmy had a tendency to tease Armie when he had somewhere to be, his hands unbuttoning shirts or untying ties moments after they were set in place. He'd smile up at Armie and ask him what was wrong when he'd get flustered and fight Timmy's fingers for control over his shirts, ties, even pants. The worst was when they had to be somewhere together, Timmy giving up and unbuttoning his own until Armie had to beg him to stop and let them leave already.

Armie stares at the suit on the hanger in front of him. "Just try it on so we can make sure it fits, I think it'll be great for the premiere." He nods at Ilaria with a sigh as she turns to talk with Elizabeth in a nearby room.

It feels stiff, Timmy would have hated it, he thinks. He would have run his fingers over the edge and told him it belonged on his floor, that he'd show him later. He would have liked the color, though, it would have been the one redeeming quality. Armie can almost hear him praising his eyes and how the blue complimented them perfectly.

It was getting worse, the relapses of memory. He found himself wondering more often than not if Timmy suffered as well, or if he was just fine living his own life, dating people he could be seen with. He almost reached out a handful of times, and in fact did once only to be met with a  _ I still need more time _ text that he hadn't had the courage to reply to. He read it sometimes just to remind himself though. That the hurt was mutual, not exclusive to his own experience.

He remembers Evelyn's suggestion and considers it, wonders what could possibly happen that would be worse than not speaking to him. Either they'd begin talking again, or they wouldn't and nothing would change. It could only go up from here, surely.

So he texts him, tells him Evelyn mentioned he'd be in town soon, was he okay with meeting. He erases the  _ I miss you _ , thinks it probably won't make anything better, and hits send. The reply text comes through as Ilaria examines the fit of his suit and he nearly gets pinned when he makes a quick leap to reach for his phone, earning a scolding glance but permission to move.

"Can I think about it?" the text says, plain and simple. He stares at it and turns when he's told for a new angle.  _ Yes, _ he types, sending it off quickly. He isn't sure he wants to see him, but he knows if he doesn't he'll be just as sad, just as stuck in the past. He hasn't seen him since they split, he's still impressed in Armie's mind from the moment they parted, Timmy's eyes red and puffy.

 

 

"I think I would like to see you, but I can't go back to your house. Evelyn will give you my hotel info if you still want to talk."

Armie wakes from the light of his phone, the text staring back at him. It had to be the middle of the night for Timmy, and he has to take a deep breath to fight the unease he feels realizing Timmy couldn't sleep.  _ I'll see you soon, then, _ he sends before staring at the ceiling and willing sleep to return.

 

 

The first time they had met like this, Timmy had been nervous. Armie remembers trying to calm him down, rubbing his arms, telling him they were fine, no one knew. He remembers kissing him until he believed they were okay. He remembers Timmy telling him he loved him. Remembers him telling him he didn't really like that the hotel sheets didn't smell like Armie, but they would do, his little smile putting both of them at ease. He remembers how they had to leave out back doors at separate times, how Timmy had texted him the second they were apart  _ I miss you already _ .

Armie knocks on Timmy's hotel room door, tugs at his shirt, shrugs his shoulders once to rid himself of jitters. He still wasn't sure about this. The door opens and he feels his body relax easily, his mouth falling open a fraction of an inch. "Hi," he breathes, eyes fluttering a few times.

Timmy was in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of fitted jeans, socks but no shoes. His hair was a little longer, his mouth curling up into the slightest smile. "Hey. Come in." Armie walked into the room and swallowed, forced a hand through his hair as he turned to face Timmy. "You look well."

"Thank you. You too, you look-- so good, it's, it's really good to see you, Timmy," he says, nodding, nervous suddenly.

"Yeah," Timmy chuckles, looking down. Armie wants to hug him, but doesn't know if that's too much already. Instead, he stands and stares at Timmy, waits for some sort of cue. He hasn't felt this buzzed with energy in months, so he tries to take it in to sustain him a little longer. "We can uh… we can go sit, if you want," Timmy offers, motioning to a couch.

"Yeah, absolutely." Armie follows him over and sits a safe distance away, his limbs aching with the inches between them. In Italy, Timmy once sat on his lap because there weren't any available spots, cuddled up against his chest, told him not to drop him. He'd shook both of their bodies when he laughed and draped an arm around Armie's neck to toy with the hair at his nape absentmindedly and Armie wanted nothing more than to kiss him in front of everyone.

"So you wanted to talk." Armie stares at him, the words taking a moment to register.

"Yeah, I um." Armie smiles sheepishly. "To be honest, I… well, I just missed you." His ribs feel too tight in his chest to hold everything inside, the blood tingling in his veins at the confession.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry if this isn't… okay."

"No, no it's alright," Timmy assures him, biting his lip. Armie nods and drops his eyes to Timmy's hands nervously folding in on themselves in his lap. "I mean, I missed you, too. So it's okay." Armie's eyes slip shut and he tries to tell himself this means  _ nothing _ , that it doesn't mean Timmy misses him the same way, that they want the same things. "Armie?"

"Hmm, yeah. I'm just thinking," he smiles, eyes opening, hand through his hair. Careless, careful, he'd never let you know which. The silence threatens to swallow them, the air growing stale and awkward as they watch each other grow restless. "This used to be so easy," Armie mumbles. "I used to be able to sit with you for hours."

"We didn't filter ourselves then."

"But we do now," Armie nods, shifting in his seat to fold his arms and stare up at the ceiling. "I think just coming here would help."

"What do you mean?"

"I've just. Been thinking a lot, you know? Can't seem to stop thinking. About this. I thought maybe if I saw you… I don't know. I guess I need closure," Armie sighs, eyes closing when a wave of unanticipated emotion sweeps over him.

"You broke up with me. I'm supposed to be the one who needs closure."

"Oh god, I don't know, Timmy. We broke up with each other, you know? It was mutual."

"You tell yourself that?" Armie turns at the tone of his voice, his eyes meeting Timmy's vulnerable expression. "If I knew you were going to leave me, I never would have asked for more." Timmy shrugs, his eyes starting to fill; he has to blink the moisture away.

"You deserve more, though, so much more."

"Maybe," he shrugs. "But I wanted it with  _ you _ . Not without you."

Armie's heart clenches up and he has to look away to focus. "I didn't want to hold you back--"

"You were afraid. This was real and you didn't expect it to be. It's okay, I understand."

"It's not okay, Tim. Don't let this be okay."

"What do you want, for me to be angry?" Timmy shakes his head and leans closer, Armie feeling his heart race. "I've been angry, Armie. So fucking angry, and now  _ I'm tired _ . I can't keep bleeding myself dry over this when it's never going to get better."

Armie can't look at him when he talks; his eyes are too intense and Armie is already close to the edge of not caring anymore about what's right. He misses him and hates himself for making him hurt like this. Time has taught him a lot though, and he lets the words sit there between them while he gathers his thoughts. "I was asked about you the other day and I kept thinking about those goddamn pistachio shells. They gave them to me at the hotel and I sat there and ate a handful of them and thought about that day when we had the house to ourselves and you just wanted to lounge all day, made me give you breakfast in bed. And I just kept thinking, god, you are a fucking idiot for letting that go."

"Armie," Timmy sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"I can usually shut that part of my brain down. I try to, I try to remember that it was the right thing to do and you're better off without me."

"I never said I would be better off without you, that was just what you told yourself," Timmy says, looking at Armie from the corner of his eye.

"Are you?"

Timmy swallows but doesn't look away. For a moment, Armie thinks he might not reply, might just let the silence take over until Armie grows restless and leaves. His voice breaks through, quiet but sure. "No."

"What are we doing?" Armie groans, falling back against the couch. "God, Timmy-- it's been months and I am no less in love with you. And it just fucking  _ hurts _ , all the time. Nothing makes it stop."

"Fuck, Armie, don't tell me that." Timmy covers his face with his hands and moves so his legs are on the couch creating a barrier between them, his knees bent and up near his chest. "You  _ know _ this isn't fair."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I'm going crazy here and if there's even the slightest chance--"

"Then what?" Timmy stares at him hard. "Then what, Armie? What happens? I go back to being the guy you fuck on the side?"

"That was  _ never _ what this was to me, you know this was more than that."

"I couldn't tell anyone! I was just in this secret thing with you, I can't live like that, Armie. I need a label with you, I need a future."

"I know."

"Then what are we doing? Why are we fucking talking about this?" Timmy shouts, the frustrating spilling over. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I'm in love with you, Timmy," he says, reaching halfway between them. "Because I can't keep living like this. Because I haven't felt like I was alive since before this ended, because I think about you all the time and it's getting harder to stop the thoughts from fucking taking over, because I got asked about you in a goddamn interview and I nearly outed myself because I missed you so much, Timmy. Because I need you. I don't fucking like who I am without you." Timmy's in tears by the time he stops, Armie not much better off. This time, the silence feels important, so Armie tries not to disrupt it. Timmy processes slowly, his mind afraid to truly trust that this time might be different.

"So what exactly do you want, Armie?" he asks quietly, sniffling.

"I just want you," Armie sighs. "I'm tired of not being happy. I'll do whatever you want, I just. I miss you so fucking much."

"You'd leave her?"

"Yes," Armie nods, a decision he'd come to in the days since receiving Timmy's text confirming he wanted to see Armie. The relief he'd felt with that single text was more than he'd felt in his marriage in too many years. They'd been growing apart already, but the affair certainly didn't help anything.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"Timmy, have I ever said I would leave her before? I'm saying it now because I mean it. I've thought about it. This is what I want."

"So then… you want to be with me."

"Yes," Armie laughs, his voice strained. "That's what I'm trying to tell you."

"What about in like, five years? Ford's in school and the kids--"

"I am in love with you, Timmy. I know the risk here. But what example am I setting if I know I'm in love with you and you're in love with me and we  _ don't _ do this?"

"God, you're sure aren't you?"

"Yes, Timmy," Armie sighed, reaching for his hand. "I am positive."

"And you're not, you won't change your mind or anything, this is it? I can, you can be my boyfriend? I can tell people? You'll come out? We can come out?"

"We can do whatever feels right, I just want to be with you."

"I want to be with you," Timmy nods, tearing up as he moves closer. "I miss you," he whispers, reaching to pull Armie's face closer to his.

"I love you."

"I love you," Timmy kisses him, his lip quivering as he starts to feel the effects of the conversation weighing on his emotions.

"I promise, it's you and me. I promise," Armie mumbles against him. His hands push through Timmy's hair to hold him close, his nose brushing up against Timmy's. "You and me."

"You and me," Timmy nods, kissing him again, and again, and again, until they're both breathless and texting their publicists to let them know they need to meet to go over plans.

Together.

 

 

Timmy used to fall asleep sprawled out on top of Armie. He asked him about it once, why he took up so much space. Not that Armie minded, he was quick to add, but just curious. Timmy had tuned a light shade of pink and kissed his neck before confessing that in Italy, he was always afraid Armie would get up and leave halfway through the night. It became habit, he supposed. Armie tried not to let it bother him that Timmy slept as though Armie would leave him, the expectation there from the start.

Now, he's curled against Armie. He pulls Armie closer to him and sighs deeply, tucked against the warmth of Armie's body. They so rarely spooned like this, intertwined so thoroughly. Armie kissed his neck as he drifted off, the memories fading into the background as Timmy mumbled an  _ I love you _ , more sure than any before.

Armie noses at the curls closes to him and presses his hand against Timmy's chest. He smiles and kisses him once more, closes his eyes, and whispers  _ I love you, too. _

When they awake, Armie is still there. Timmy listens as he calls Elizabeth and explains that he's with him, that they need to talk, that he'll be home later. They lay in bed for as long as they can and catch up on everything they'd missed in their time apart.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write about interviews for so long, this was inevitable. I know some of you don't like it when divorce is brought into this but for this specific scenario, I needed a reason for Timmy to have left Armie in the first place, and that made the most sense to get them to a resolution.


End file.
